


Satisfied

by Butterfly_girl



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-21 03:53:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14907822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterfly_girl/pseuds/Butterfly_girl
Summary: Crowe thinks about Aranea a lot.  But when Aranea gives her the opportunity to share her thoughts, will she have the courage to give in to the temptation?





	Satisfied

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 1 of FFXV Rarepair Week 2018 ("Try me.")

The locker room was almost empty by the time Crowe had regained enough energy to change. She tugged off her shirt and tossed it into her bag, shivering slightly as the cool air brushed against her sweaty skin. She stood there for a few moments, lifting her hair up so the breeze could reach the back of her neck, the chill already causing the flush that spread across her face and neck to fade. Letting the hair fall back into place so it cascaded in loose waves over her shoulders like a waterfall in negative, she wrapped a towel around the upper half of her body, reaching underneath it to try to ease down her pants- a job easier said than done. Her skin was hot and clammy and the damp material clung to her as she attempted to manoeuver them down over her thighs. 

“For fuck’s sake,” she muttered under her breath, groaning to herself as she twisted this way and that, tugging frantically at the material in her attempt to free herself from her clothing. 

“Now that’s a sight for sore eyes!”

Crowe heard a chuckle behind her and froze on the spot, the flush returning to her cheeks as she realised the towel that had been protecting her modesty had risen up around her waist, leaving her ass almost completely exposed. Pulling the towel down with one hand, she shuffled round on the spot, cursing the fact she’d managed to get the pants down as far as her ankles where they were preventing her from taking more than one tiny step at a time. 

“Need some help with that?” Aranea smirked, raising one eyebrow as she looked Crowe up and down, her eyes lingering on the pink, blushing skin peeking out from the top of the towel. 

“I’m sure I can manage.” Crowe glanced down at the towel, grabbing hold of it and pulling it up so it covered more of her chest, tightening her grip to stop it slipping again as she sat down on the bench. “I guess I just worked up a bit of a sweat in there. You worked me hard, you know?!” The pants came loose with one final tug, and Crowe rolled them into a ball before throwing them on top of her shirt.

“Don’t I always?” 

It was true. Aranea _did_ work her hard. When they’d first started training together, Crowe had hated everything about their sessions: the nausea that settled in the pit of her stomach midway through a workout; the stiffness in her arms and legs that limited her movement for days; the painful burning sensation that pricked her lungs whenever she attempted to take a breath. To say she was reluctant to attend training was an understatement and, for a while, she’d been very vocal with her complaints. The weights were too heavy. They were running too fast. She needed more of a rest. She just couldn’t do what she was being asked to do.

If it hadn’t been for Aranea- or, more precisely, the fact Aranea was incredibly attractive- she probably would have given up completely. But seeing her each week, feeling her soft hands press against her body as she helped her though a particularly challenging set of exercises, watching her skin glow and her cheeks flush pink as they ran side by side on the treadmill… well, it made it all worthwhile and, eventually, pleasing Aranea became much more important than her self- imposed barriers.

Crowe had soon learnt to expect to come away from their sessions looking like she’d been caught in a sudden storm, her hair plastered to her forehead like a second skin. She’d gotten used to the searing pain that saturated each of her muscles as she pushed them to the point where they felt like they were on fire and, now, even the inevitable ache that spread through her body the day after a training session wasn’t entirely unwelcome.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Huh?”

Crowe snapped out of her daydream and glanced up, surprised to see Aranea staring down at her, a bemused expression etched across her face as she awaited a response. The question was direct, almost a command rather than an invitation to answer, and Crowe was caught off guard, her breath trembling as she gazed into those piercing emerald-green eyes. She’d always sworn that Aranea’s eyes had some kind of hypnotic powers and, as she stared into them now, she felt paralysed, torn between a desperation to tear her eyes away and an intense desire to be lost in them forever. 

Libertus always said the eyes were the gateway to the soul and, in Aranea’s case, that was definitely true. She was a closed book most of the time, even to Crowe who probably knew her better than anybody else, and her lack of emotion had become a recurring joke between the recruits. But Crowe knew better. When she looked in those eyes, she saw something- a sadness, a sign of an unhappy past, a struggle, a strength that was not innate but had been developed out of a need to survive. Where others saw no emotion, Crowe saw an abundance. Hidden it may have been, but it was there, trapped just below the surface, just waiting for the right person to ask the right questions. 

“Eos to Crowe!” Aranea laughed, the sound like a glass shattering: sharp, brief and sudden, crashing to a halt almost before it had begun. “What’s wrong with you today?”

“Sorry…” The laughter broke the spell and Crowe looked away, running her hands through her hair as she shook her head in bewilderment. “What were you saying?”

“I asked what you were thinking about. It’s not like you to be so distracted.” 

“Yeah, I…” Crowe broke off mid sentence, her breath catching in the back of her throat as she let her eyes drift down past Aranea’s face to take in the rest of her appearance. Her clothing lay strewn across the opposite bench, discarded quickly and carelessly but, whereas Crowe had chosen to cocoon herself in her towel so that only her head poked out of the top, Aranea hadn’t bothered. She stood with her hands on her hips, towel slung over one arm, a smirk on her face as she watched the spreading blush that was working its way outwards from Crowe’s cheeks. Her silver-blonde hair hung loose, most of it tumbling over her shoulders and down her back, the thick mane framing her face perfectly. Where she had pulled out her ponytail, a few stray strands had fallen forwards to form a curtain over her face, softening her features and making her look younger and more vulnerable. 

Crowe pressed her hands to her cheeks. If the heat emanating from them was anything to go by, she knew she was turning an unattractive shade of deep crimson, the way she always did when she was embarrassed. It was something Nyx and Libertus teased her relentlessly about, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. In fact, the more she tried, the more she thought about it, the worse it got.

In contrast, Aranea’s body was covered in a delicate pink flush which only made her more attractive. She’d been exercising hard too but unlike Crowe, who sweated so fervently she looked like she’d already had her shower, the sweat which clung to her skin seemed to make her glow, the sheen emphasising the strong curve of each muscle as it glistened sensually under the lights of the locker room. 

Crowe bit her lower lip. There was something so disarming about seeing Aranea naked. She’d imagined it on many occasions, both in her dreams and while awake, but the pictures she’d created in her mind were nothing compared to the reality. Her body was as muscular and powerful as she'd expected but, without clothing, she seemed slimmer, the soft curves of her hips drawing attention to her waist, small and elegant in contrast to the robust muscles of her thighs and arms. 

Her eyes travelled to her collar bone, the delicate skin covering it marred by a single, silvery scar- a long, thick gash running from just underneath her shoulder towards her breasts, perfectly straight as though drawn purposefully and precisely with a knife. When her eyes reached the end of the scar, they rested on her breasts, which moved up and down freely with each breath she took. Without lingerie, they sat lower, more natural, less close together, each so perfect and moulded to her form. The skin there looked softer than the rest- sensitive and untouched by battle- and Crowe found herself wanting to reach out and run her fingers over it, to sweep her fingertips over the already erect nipples, to explore every inch of exposed skin until she knew every scar, every mark off by heart.

“So?”

There it was again. That expression that Crowe found both irritating and irresistible in equal measure. The twinkle behind those bright emerald eyes that caused her heart to pound against her ribcage. The slight curve of the lips that made every hair on her arms stand on end. The single raised eyebrow that suggested she knew exactly what Crowe was thinking about.

“It’s nothing.” Crowe stood up, clutching the edges of the towel together as she dug around in her bag for her shampoo. She felt Aranea’s eyes on her as she leant over to rummage through her things and reached back round to tug at the towel, suddenly very aware of how little it was covering. Aranea chuckled again and she blushed fiercely, irritated by the mixture of embarrassment and desire that seemed to be causing her to act like a complete idiot. Ignoring her burning cheeks, she straightened back up and made her way towards the shower, shaking her hair back from her face and over her shoulders as she passed Aranea. Once again she was drawn to her eyes but, somehow, managed to resist the urge to look back, instead choosing to stare straight ahead in an attempt to fake confidence. 

“It doesn’t look like nothing to me.” Crowe felt a hand reach out and brush against her arm, the gentle touch causing sparks of electricity to shoot through her body. She paused, taking a deep breath to control the moan of pleasure that was threatening to escape her lips.

“Trust me… you really don’t want to know what’s going on in my head right now.” The hand tightened its grip around her wrist, long, lithe fingers working their way up and down her forearm in soft, delicate movements- playful, as though a spider was dancing across her skin, but at the same time more intimate than any touch they had previously shared. Crowe shivered, pulling her arm out of Aranea’s grasp and continuing towards the bathroom, shaking her head in disbelief as she tried to make sense of what had just happened. 

“Try me,” Aranea called after her, the teasing tone behind the challenge not quite convincing enough to conceal something else. There was an edge to her words, something in her voice that Crowe wasn’t sure she’d ever heard before. Desperation, perhaps? Whatever it was, this was more than just a game. Letting out a snort of laughter, she continued on without a word, head held high as she rounded the corner and stepped into one of the empty shower cubicles. It felt good to be the one in control for once. If Aranea was so eager to find out what she was thinking, she’d have to force it out of her. 

She let her towel drop to the floor, sweeping it up and tossing it over the top of the door before turning the water on high and letting it beat over her head in steamy rivulets. Closing her eyes, she let the heat soak into her skin, washing away the salty sweat that was making it sting and soothing her aching muscles. Learning back against the cool tiles, she pictured Aranea, every curve of her body imprinted onto her mind in so much detail it felt like she was staring at the real thing. So much for ‘out of sight, out of mind’. 

“Fuck,” she muttered to herself. “Pull yourself together, Crowe. Don’t do this to yourself!”

“Don’t do what to yourself?”

Aranea’s voice cut through the rhythmic hammering of the water as it beat against the floor and Crowe stumbled backwards in shock, losing her balance and slamming her head against the tiled wall. She let out a yelp of pain, grabbing hold of Aranea’s shoulders in an attempt to regain her footing, her fingertips brushing against the raised edge of the scar on her collarbone, rough and uneven in contrast to the smooth skin surrounding it. 

“What…shit.” She raised one hand to the back of her head where she could feel a lump forming. "What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Sweeping her hair back and out of her face, she squinted across at Aranea, who had already grabbed Crowe’s shampoo and was proceeding to nonchalantly lather a large dollop into her own hair. She leant back so the water ran down her back in foamy rivers, leaving behind glistening silver streaks to match her scars. 

“I’m showering, Crowe. Same as you.” Aranea’s voice was calm, as though this was nothing at all out of the ordinary. “I’d have thought that’d be obvious.” She turned to look at Crowe, a teasing grin on her face as she flicked her hair over one shoulder in a single deft movement, scattering droplets of water in all directions.

“Fuck…” Crowe muttered, rubbing the back of her hand over her eyes in an attempt to clear her vision. “I… There are other showers, aren’t there? Why do you have to use this one?” She put her hands on her hips, her mouth set in a thin, hard line as she glared at Aranea. But the harsh gaze was redundant. Aranea was standing with her back to her once again as she continued to massage the shampoo into her hair, piling it on top of her head like a jewelled crown to reveal a slender neck that Crowe wasn’t sure she’d ever seen.

“I don’t _have_ to use this one.”

Crowe continued to stare at Aranea’s neck, fascinated by a line of freckles which ran all the way from behind her ear to the top of her spine, all of different shapes and sizes as though someone had flicked a paintbrush covered in golden-brown paint against her pale skin. It was so hard not to reach out and trace the line with her fingers, and she found herself wanting nothing more than to feel Aranea’s soft, supple skin pressed up against her own. 

“Then…?” 

Aranea spun round to face her, their bodies so close that Crowe could feel the heat radiating off her skin. She held her breath as Aranea reached out a hand, letting it graze against the side of her face as she tucked a section of hair behind her ear, the simple touch enough to make her gasp with pleasure, her cheeks flushing with more than just the heat of the water. Aranea leant down so her mouth was close to Crowe’s ear- close enough that Crowe could feel the air move along with her lips when she whispered.

“I _want_ to use this one.” The words were growled more than spoken and this new tone of voice- full of threat and excitement- made Crowe tremble in anticipation. Her legs, already exhausted from the exercise, were shaking uncontrollably, and she put a hand out to steady herself, worried they might collapse out from underneath her at any moment. 

“But there’s… “ She swallowed, glancing up towards Aranea who was gazing back at her with an expression she couldn’t read. “There’s a whole row of empty cubicles exactly the same as this one. What makes this one so special?”

Aranea smiled, her moist, pink lips parting slightly as she leant forward again. Lifting up the veil of hair that had fallen around Crowe’s shoulders, she whispered into her ear, her voice low and serious as she spoke.

“You.”

A single word. That was all it took to make Crowe’s heart skip a beat, to make her hold her breath a second longer than usual as though letting it out would change what had just happened. She closed her eyes and leant back, revelling in the sensation of soft breaths as they danced across her neck, taking tiny, ballerina-like steps as they followed the line of her jaw. The breaths became a tender brush of lips against her jawbone, where they burned like a brand as they pressed against her skin. She gasped- more in surprise than anything- and reached up both hands impulsively to push Aranea away. 

Aranea stepped back, a hurt expression flashing across her eyes as she snatched both hands away from Crowe, letting them drop down by her sides as though they were made of lead. “Shit,” she mumbled, more to herself than anything, turning away and running her hands through her hair, lifting it up and letting it fall back forward around her shoulders so it partly covered her face. “Maybe I seriously misread what was going on earlier but I thought…” She fiddled with a section of hair, focusing her attention on a knot that had formed at the end of it, running her hands over it before twisting it round and round in her fingertips. She glanced up, her eyes wide and full of concern as she looked at Crowe. Dropping the hair she was holding, she reached out tentatively as though she wanted to touch her again, her eyes glistening as she allowed her hand to come to rest on the wall beside her rather than on Crowe’s arm as she had intended. “If you want me to leave, you just have to say the word and I’ll go. It’ll be like this never happened.”

Slowly, Crowe raised an arm to touch Aranea’s face, her hand shaking as she cupped her cheek and ran her fingers gently over her skin in soothing strokes. Aranea smiled, wrapping her hand around Crowe’s wrist, her long fingers easily encompassing her forearm, and holding it more tightly to her cheek. She lifted her hand and brought it to her mouth, pressing a firm but affectionate kiss to her palm before pushing her own hand against it and lacing their fingers together.

“Do you want me to go?” There was a vulnerability in her voice that made Crowe want to wrap her arms around her and pull her in tightly, holding her in an embrace and never letting go. But instead she simply shook her head, a small movement that would have been imperceptible if it wasn’t for the fact Aranea was staring at her intently as she awaited a response.

“Well what do you want then?”

Aranea let her hand drop to Crowe’s hip where a single finger traced the curve of her hip bone, the touch so delicate it was like static hanging just above the surface of her skin. When she reached her thigh, she paused for a moment, using her fingertips to caress in firm, circular movements, the tense, swollen muscle immediately relaxing under the pressure. 

“I…I…” Crowe moaned as Aranea pressed against her, her back arching just long enough for Aranea to slip her hands between the wall and her body, eagerly exploring every inch of her skin with her fingertips, her hands moving constantly as they massaged her muscles in strong, powerful movements. 

“Tell me, Crowe. I want to hear it. I want to hear all of it.”

Crowe rested her forehead against Aranea’s, panting slightly as she tried to catch her breath. 

“You. I want you.”

Unable to contain herself anymore, Crowe held Aranea’s head in her hands, softly brushing the damp strands of hair away from her forehead before pulling her in to a fiery, passionate kiss, her hands working her way around her body, feeling each crevasse, each line, the protrusion of every muscle. 

They pulled apart, breathless and flushed as they stared at each other, the water running down their faces to where their lips met, each of them tasting the cool droplets as they rolled off the tips of their noses and pooled between their lips. Aranea placed a quick kiss on each droplet, soaking up the moisture before pushing their lips together even more firmly and locking them together, her tongue exploring the gap between Crowe’s upper and lower lip, teasing it open just enough for it to slip its way inside. 

For a while, words were left unspoken, the only things worth saying those that could be said in moans, in gasps, in trailing tongues and shudders. Crowe felt a wave of excitement rush through her as she wrapped her legs around Aranea’s waist, grabbing a handful of the thick, silver hair at the base of her neck and using it to lever herself up higher. Her head was swimming, the world outside the shower cubicle completely lost as they pushed up against each other, trading ravenous kisses as though they had been waiting an entire lifetime for this moment. Flesh slapping against flesh, the water that glided over their skin acted as a moisturiser, providing the only lubricant they needed. Their bodies were now completely intertwined, limb wrapped around limb as they rubbed against each other in perfect synchronisation, a dance to an intoxicating melody only the two of them could hear. 

Eventually, they collapsed exhausted into a corner of the cubicle, limbs still tangled together as they curled up next to each other. Crowe nuzzled her head underneath Aranea’s chin, pressing the side of her face up against her chest. The steady, rhythmic beat of her heart, like a drum keeping perfect time, was soothing, and Crowe closed her eyes, letting her mind drift through the pleasant haze that dulled her thoughts. This was the only thing she wanted to think about anyway. Everything else could wait. After all, compared to this moment, nothing else mattered…


End file.
